Lonely Poets
by LoveSongforMichigan
Summary: To all the stargazers and those who write lines and lines and lines and keep it to yourself, cause you don't know who will want to hear them- this one's for you. (Mostly because I'm no good at summaries)


**Hi, friends! So. This is just a prologue, to see if anyone may be interested in what may come. (And if I continue this, I promise, the meat will come later). If you like; Review, review, review! **

**(The poem is mine, please, let me know if you want to use it for anything.)**_  
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**Told from Santana's POV.**

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_"My hands make a perfect gun_

_Just cock the thumb_

_Close one eye_

_And go_

_Pow, pow, pow!_

_Striking at tin cans_

_Firing at tin hearts_

_My aim has always been shit, will it ever get better?_

_Pow, pow, pow!_

_Damn_

_I shot myself again_

_And the sci-fi poets go_

_Pew, pew, pew!_

_With weapons of mass fan-fiction_

_And the wind was wolfish_

_Blow, blow, blow, at my brick, brick, brick_

_Clawing at the hinges outside my bed_

_Or maybe in my head_

_Yes, I know it is!_

_But tell me how to get it out!_

_Shove a finger in my mouth_

_Cock my thumb one last time-_

_The power is on!_

_The power is on, yes of course it is_

_But tell me how to turn it off_

_And the cat-like poets go_

_Mew, mew, mew!_

_With weapons of mass attraction_

_It is raining_

_And the brick is holding_

_And the wolf is winded at my door_

_These are my words, I'm not folding_

_The power is off!_

_The power is off, but tell me now, if this is how it's supposed to be_

_What am I to do?_

_And the lonely poets go_

_Boo, hoo, hoo!_

_With weapons of mass rejection_

_And the spent wolf sleeps_

_Curled up at my feet_

_Stuffed with my unused guts..._

_The power stays off_

_I drop my gun_

_It was empty all along_

_But what is this?_

_I have let him in once more_

_This is not what it seems, is it?_

_And the wolf-like poets go_

_Ow, ow, ow!_

_With weapons of mass destruction_

_And I lie on the floor covered in my own blood_

_My mind was the gun_

_The wolf has finally won, hasn't he?_

_Now, hurry up_

_Cause we're still dreaming_

_And we can't win this time."_

It took me a moment to realize the ending had come. Snapping from my stupor, I clapped along with the rest of my classmates as Quinn and Sam took their seats again; most of the class seemed unenthusiastic about the performance, and the two reciting appeared displeased with their reaction.  
I guess I ought to have felt sorry for them. It's always embarrassing going in front of peers. But I don't. Not on purpose, I just don't really feel anything anymore. None of their words even sank in; I couldn't repeat back half of the poem if I really tried. And I would want to. Because the parts that I do remember struck me, on an almost mocking personal note.

"That was excellent, you two!" Mr. Schue exclaimed, moving from his position in the back of the room and rubbing his hands together in excitement. At least he appeared to have liked it. "Class- any discussions?"

And I was lost again.

Blink once; I'm trading my English binder in for biology at my locker. Twice; school is ending and I'm changing with the other Cheerios before practice. Quinn is talking to me about something. Words must fall from my mouth but they must be shallow, unimportant because I cannot recall them, either. Again; and I'm back in the changeroom. Sweaty and sore, with the occurence of guttural hatred ripping at me from somewhere within- about what, I'm not sure.  
Same old routine. The days always pass in this blur lately. My focus is gone and I'm a robot, devoid of emotion- except for that stinging rage and anger in my own mind. But nothing more.

Reflecting while walking home, I try to make sense of my change; of what has happened to me. I used to be so much more present. Am I missing something? Because I'm not happy. Scan through the music on my Ipod, and it's not like any other girl's should be. With tales of tragedy and longing; I _know_ I'm missing something.

And when I bumped into the blonde stranger from across the road; I knew what.


End file.
